I am HER... (62 page)

 
And that was it.  The end.  Mack hasn’t left me since, no matter what I’ve said or done.  Mack always comes back, and acts like it’s perfectly
normal
for me to cry, scream, and fight him and his help at every turn.

 
But now that I’m awake I need to apologize again.  I didn’t mean to hurt him, or to make him into a bad man, like the
other
men
were.  I didn’t mean to make him and Kayla bad, or to make their new relationship
ugly.

 
This time I
really
need to apologize.  This time, for whatever reason, I attacked him personally.  And it is
so
wrong; I can hardly breathe for wanting to beg his forgiveness.

 
I don’t know what happened earlier, but it’s like my sleep washed away all the upset and desperation.  I barely feel what I felt earlier.  I hate how quick and violently those feelings come on, and I hate how quick and violently I react to those feelings.  Strangely, I’m embarrassed when the feelings leave me just as quickly, because it’s so hard to explain to Mack just how intense, and how strongly I had felt them at the time, when mere hours later I feel totally calm again. 

                                    ==========

 
Rising from my bed, I first notice that all my vomit has been cleaned up, and second that all my new clothes are folded on the chair.  Did Mack fold my clothes?  If so, he is honestly going for sainthood.

 
In my bathroom, I brush my nasty teeth, and take another quick ‘rinse-off’ shower.  I’m still not allowed a razor, but who cares if my legs are shaved?  It’s not like anyone touches me there.  Actually, with the exception of Mack’s hugs, no one touches me at all.

 
I remember the first time I saw ‘Chicago Kayla’ after I was admitted.  Apparently, New York Kayla broke hospital policy by telling Chicago Kayla what I had done; and how badly I was actually deteriorating.  This Kayla was even brought up by the Hospital Disciplinary Committee, when one of the other nurses reported her.

 
This Kayla fought it, and then Chicago Kayla denied it, and both Kaylas walked away relatively unharmed.  I remember apologizing to New York Kayla for her involvement with me, and she just laughed and said, “Do you
really
think this is my first time in trouble?  Pu-lease…”  And that was that.

 
Chicago Kayla walked into my room, began a fifteen minute tirade about Marcus, the men, my life, and then she winded down with a very heart-felt apology with tears and everything. Finally she took me into a huge hug.  At the time, I still cringed from physical contact, but after a few seconds in her arms, I just exhaled, and grabbed her tight.

 
I cried a lot that day while Mack stayed in the room and monitored me from the corner.  Chicago Kayla was awesome, and very easy to be with.  I had forgotten in my anger and hurt just how awesome Kayla actually was.  She asked many questions I couldn’t or wasn’t ready to answer.  And she forgave me when she received no answers.  She said she didn’t care what she knew or didn’t know, what I could or couldn’t tell her, she said she just wanted back in my life… in any
way
I would have her.

 
When she left later that evening, I was really sad to see her go.  Forgiving Kayla, when
honestly
, she didn’t know she had done anything wrong, sleeping with Marcus at the time… was easy.  I was glad to strike her off the very long list of people to hate.

 
A few days later, both Kaylas asked me if I was okay with them talking to each other, and I agreed.  Looking back on it now, I was pretty drugged up at the time, so they kinda pulled one over on me, but there it is anyway.

 
My two Kaylas are friends, and they talk on the phone, and though I know I’m more often than not, the center of their conversations,
which I hate
, they actually get along fabulously.

  T
he last time Chicago Kayla visited, a few weeks ago, she even stayed at This Kayla’s apartment.  The following morning when they walked in, they talked about their night, and even joked that they didn’t throttle each other, or even really feel like it.  It turns out Chicago Kayla also knew another Kayla, and she hated her guts too.  Both Kaylas said “It’s got to be the name.”

 
I remember feeling a momentary bang of jealousy that they got on so well, but then they each turned their attention on me, and I realized it was
because
they cared for me that they were friends.  Both my Kaylas.  ‘This Kayla’ and ‘That Kayla’.  Fairly confusing for Mack some days I know, but kind of funny as well.

 
Chicago Kayla and I talk on the phone every second night now.  She has even called me while on a boring date.  She still has her sexploits, I can tell, but thankfully, she doesn’t discuss them with me.  I’m not too sure if she knew not to, or if Mack, or maybe even This Kayla explained not to, but for whatever reason, Kayla mentions going out with men, but she no longer
gags me
with all the sexual specifics.

  C
hicago Kayla even fixed my hair for me.  Well, it’s not like I had much choice in the matter, she just walked in with a bunch of hair paraphernalia and began.  When I attempted to protest, Kayla gave me her damn pout, and before I knew it she had called New York Kayla and I was done.  There was no fight, just a kind of resigned submission to the insanity that is ‘My Two Kaylas’.

 
When it was over, like an hour later, Chicago Kayla had created this kind of swept-over, fluttery bang which covers the scar and lack of hair on the front of my skull.  I actually really like the look.  The bangs are adorable with my hair up, and even on the rare occasions when my hair is down, the bangs still work.

 
When New York Kayla saw the final look, she was totally awed by Chicago Kayla’s work.  Beaming, she yelled, “Yeah!  Total Farrah Fawcett ‘Fuck-Me Flips!’”  And then the room went dead silent.

 
I didn’t know where to look.  Chicago Kayla just gasped and stared.  The long pause that followed was so comical, I nearly died with laughter. New York Kayla actually stammered- She had
nothing
.  I think for the first time in her life, she was completely and utterly
wordless.
  Chicago Kayla stared like she too had no idea what to say.  Finally, I let her off the hook.

 
“How about, Farrah Fawcett, ‘
DON’T
Fuck-Me Flips’… will that do?”

 
Thankfully, New York Kayla recovered herself quickly, wrapped me into a tight hug, whispered she was so sorry, then agreed, “Don’t ‘fuck-me flips’
more
than works.”

 
Crisis avoided.  Amazingly, I kept it together the whole time
and
I actually kept my two Kaylas reasonably relaxed through the whole funny, but potentially devastating ordeal.

  I really like having two friends.  God, I hope I didn’t kill my friendship with This Kayla this afternoon. 
Shit.
  I probably did.  How can she forgive me for being so rude and disgusting toward Mack and her budding relationship? 
Shit!
  This might be really bad. 

 
I need to figure out what I’m going to say to her.  I love having This Kayla in my life.  All the other nurses are afraid of her; therefore, they stay the hell away from me.  I really, really like having this Kayla.  She has been so kind to me, for months now.  No matter how bad I got, she always came to my room to visit me.  She always made a point of talking to me, even when I could hardly talk myself.  And she always just tried to be here whenever she could, and I will always be grateful to her for that.

                    
               ==========

 
Twenty minutes later all my new clothes are hung up in my tiny, cramped little closet.  Mack even somehow managed to wheel in a ‘rolling bureau’ as he called it, but it’s still not enough space.

 
Both Kaylas seem to just
always
stumble upon some sale or other, and they just
had to
pick up whatever was on sale for me.  Originally, I refused and fought them, but again, I just became tired, because quite frankly there is NO use fighting
two
Kaylas.  Inevitably, they have filled my two spaces to capacity with the most amazing clothes.

 
Argh…
where the hell is Mack?
  Okay, I’ve stalled long enough, I have to call him.

 
Dialing, I’m quite nervous.  I hope he isn’t too mad at me this time.  I know I really pushed it today, and though it wasn’t my intention to go after Kayla and him, I did anyway.  Mack is usually so forgiving, but today I think I crossed over a very dark line.

 
Okay, now I’m really nervous.  He isn’t answering, which is an absolute first.  Four rings in, I go total meltdown.  Oh. My
. God.
  I
have
ruined it.  Jesus
Christ!
  I can’t lose Mack!  I just can’t! 
FUCK!

 
When his voicemail picks up, I’m done.  I know it.  I can’t have this.  Not now.  I am so close.

 
“Mack!  MACK!!  Please pick up!  Please call me back.  Please!  I’m Sorry…” 
Shit.
I think I’m screaming.  “…MACK!  Please don’t hate me! 
PLEASE!”

 
Suddenly Mack is in my room calling my name at the door.  Spinning toward him I’m almost dizzy with my upset.  Thank god!  He’s here.  Running for him, Mack opens has arms and looks like he’s bracing himself for impact. 
Oh,
that’s kinda funny actually.

 
“Mack!  I’m sorry.  I was such an asshole this afternoon, I know it.  I didn’t mean those things to you, and I’ll apologize to Kayla too.  I was just messed up.  Please!  Please don’t leave me yet.” 
Yet?
  Ooops.

 
“Suzanne, stop.  Breathe.  Look at me.  I’m not mad at you.  We’ll talk about this afternoon, but I am not mad at you.  You and I are fine.  And I wouldn’t leave.  Not yet.  Not ever.  You really need to start believing that.” 
Exhale.

 
“Sit down by the table.  I have food arriving any minute for us.  I was down the hall when you called, so I just walked here instead of answering.  Had I known you would panic, I would have answered.  You know this.  When do I leave you?  When have I
ever
left you,
especially
after a particularly hard day? 
When
Suzanne?”

 
“Never…” I whisper.

 
“That’s right. 
Never.
  I don’t leave you, and I won’t leave you.  Try to remember that.”

 
“Sorry. 
Ick...
now I feel like a child.” 
I hate this feeling.

 
“Suzanne.  I’m not lecturing you like a child.  I’m trying to brow-beat some sense into you.  You know I won’t leave you, I
know
you know that.  Yet you instantly go to your place of abandonment each and every time you have a bad day, or a grueling incident.  That’s why I’m repeating myself.  I don’t mean to sound like I’m lecturing you; I just hope that if I repeat these words often enough you’ll eventually believe them.  Okay?”

 
“Okay, Mack.  I’m really sorry.”

 
“Suzanne, you could try a Saint with all your apologies, you know that?”

 
“I know.  Z used to say that too.  But my family and Marcus couldn’t get enough apologies from me.  ‘Old habits die hard’, remember?  You told me that once.”

 
“Yes, I’m well aware of my own words of wisdom.”

 
“You should be, there are so
few
of them.” 
WHAT?!
  Giggle.

 
“That was very quick and
very
cleaver Suzanne.  Thank you for slaughtering my intellect.  I do so enjoy being intellectually slaughtered, especially by a crazy chick such as yourself.  It cuts deeper.”  He says grinning.  Oh.  Thank
god.

 
Grabbing Mack in a tight hug, I finally breathe properly.  I hate feeling insecure with Mack.  I feel it so often with so many, that feeling it with Mack is just too much.  I can’t handle it, and I can’t stand it.  I
want
Mack to always feel safe.

 
“I really am sorry for everything I did and said this afternoon, Mack. 
Really.
  I feel awful, just sick over it…”